


Goodnight Moose

by posingasme



Series: Supernatural Fatherhood [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Baby Jack Kline, Gen, Kelly would be pleased, Nephilim, Sastiel If You Squintiel, Sleepy Sam Winchester, Uncle Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 02:03:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14966741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/posingasme/pseuds/posingasme
Summary: Saving people means saving all the people, and that definitely includes tiny adorable nephilim babies. Castiel, Sam and Dean take on the roles of caretaker...and one is surprisingly good at his new job.





	Goodnight Moose

**Author's Note:**

> This series will be made of ficlets about fatherhood in the Supernatural world, the good, the bad, the ugly and the sweet...not necessarily in that order.

Castiel slipped into the bedroom and toed off his shoes. He had brought back the items Sam had asked for, and left them in the kitchen. But he could hear snoring, and he didn’t want to awaken the poor man.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly, and he smiled down at the scene. Sam was indeed asleep, sitting on the chair beside the bed, with his head in his arms on the mattress. His hair spilled over his face, but moved gently with his breath. In the bed itself was Jack. 

The tiny nephilim had his little hand in Sam’s hair, clutching it mercilessly. He too was asleep. Castiel knew that would only last maybe two hours at most, so he treasured the moment. 

The ancient celestial could feel the power thrumming in Jack’s little form, but he didn’t fear it. Kelly was right. There was good in him, and Castiel had promised to nurture it. 

But even after all the parenting books he had read-and still read at every opportunity-Castiel had never expected the tireless help of a hardened hunter. 

“Tireless,” he murmured with a soft smile. Maybe not that. But Sam was rising to this challenge with the same determined optimism that he faced everything in his life, and with a patience Castiel admired. 

Just this morning, Jack had managed to throw Dean from the bunker staircase, because he had a gas bubble in his tummy that made him cranky, and uncle Dean had been standing nearby. Castiel had been forced to heal Dean again later, when he had startled the tiny creature by calling to Sam to come look at something. It was becoming a daily-or twice daily-routine. For his part, Dean was surprisingly accepting of the bunker’s newest occupant, considering he had been searching for a way to kill it since before its birth, and considering that he was almost always the target of Jack’s accidental eruptions. Castiel estimated that Dean grumbled no more about Jack than he did about either Castiel himself or Sam, so he called that a win. 

Castiel reached down to untangle the little fingers from the soft hair. Miraculously, Jack remained asleep as Castiel put the fingers on the soft toy moose instead. He smirked at it. It had been Dean’s way of accepting Jack into the family. Jack had latched onto the moose fiercely, as though he somehow knew it represented his caretaker. It was the only thing which would do as a substitute for Sam. 

The hunter cleared his throat sleepily, and he lifted his head. He cringed, and rubbed at the spot on his head Jack had been tormenting. “Cas?”

The angel took his hand and pulled him away, to the hall. He noted that, even as he yawned, Sam never took his eyes off the sleeping baby in the big bed. 

“You got the crib Kelly made?”

“Yes, Sam.”

“Good. I can’t stand for him to be in that bed when I’m not there. If he rolled out…”

Castiel couldn’t help smiling at him. “He would be fine, Sam. He’s virtually indestructible. I told you.”

“Just put the damn crib together, Cas.”

The angel laughed very quietly. “I said I would.”

“And it’s the same model Kelly got him. You’re sure?”

“Yes, Sam. And I took photographs of the nursery she created, so he will be able to see it when he gets older.”

Sam sighed. “Okay. Thank you. That’s all I needed. That and-“

“Gas drops. I have them. And I brought pie to soothe your brother’s hurt ego.”

The man snorted, and clawed a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Good. But it wouldn’t be the first time a baby monster got the jump on him. Remind me to tell you about the angry bar-ba-loot he separated from his mother.”

“Barmanou.”

Sam blinked at him, and yawned. “What?”

Castiel did his best to stifle a chuckle at poor Sam’s expense. “I assume you mean the apish creature from southwest Asia. Barmanou.”

“Yeah. The Pakistani Bigfoot. Some assholes were carting around a baby one as a freak show, and the mama was following it and killing everyone that touched-Why? What did I say?”

“A bar-ba-loot is from the book you read to Jack yesterday, isn’t it? About the trees?”

Even in the dark hall, Castiel could enjoy watching Sam’s face pinken. “Oh. It’s-That’s a thing-It’s like a bear thing from The Lorax. I guess.”

He nodded. “I was confused about one bit of that story.”

Sam stretched, and yawned again. “Only one bit?”

“How would one know if a shell were that of a great-great-great grandfather snail?”

A giggle punched out of Sam then, and he seemed surprised to hear it coming from himself. “Shh!” he laughed. “You’ll wake Jack!” he scolded, as though Castiel were the one too noisy. 

Castiel was pleased. Sam laughed too rarely. “I also brought something for you, Sam.”

He lifted his brows. “Yeah? I was just going to steal a piece of Dean’s pie. What’s the occasion for me? I didn’t get zapped by the kid, at least not for three days.”

Castiel was careful not to crinkle the envelope as he handed it over. “You’re welcome to try to take some pie, but you might want to give Dean time to sulk alone. In any case, thank you for everything you’re doing with Jack. I’ll return for him when the crib is assembled.”

Sam nodded. He looked up from the envelope. “But when it’s built, it should go in my room. So I can watch over him.”

He sighed happily. “Yes, Sam,” he said in a patient voice, and then disappeared down the hall to let Sam open his Father’s Day card in peace.

**Author's Note:**

> The Onceler might take snail shells and nails, but comments are the best currency for writers! Thank you for reading!
> 
> ~Posing


End file.
